


Hide From Me

by moodwriter



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Feelings, M/M, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-05
Updated: 2013-07-05
Packaged: 2017-12-17 19:43:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/871290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moodwriter/pseuds/moodwriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek is bad with feelings. Stiles is bad with silence. They have a lot of time to be distracted by each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hide From Me

**Author's Note:**

> This happens somewhere between episodes 4 and 5 on season three. So some spoilers.
> 
> I had to play with Derek's feelings because he doesn't show much.

Everybody dies. That’s the biggest truth Derek knows. He doesn’t want to care about anyone because they die. 

Cora comes back to him, and she reminds him of Laura so much that it hurts somewhere deep, somewhere dark and desolate inside him. Laura died a second ago compared to the rest of his family, and she took care of him for a long, long time. Now Cora is here, and she can be taken away from him just as easily as Laura. 

She is a reminder of how fragile and sharp life can be. 

He doesn’t want her in his life, and same goes with Isaac. Derek wants them gone. He wants them to leave before it’s too late. Because when it’s too late, there’s nowhere for him to run. 

Erica proved that already.

He can’t handle a pack. 

He can’t handle an uncle. 

He can’t handle Scott who is hot and cold, and stupidly involved with everything. 

Scott makes him want to be someone whom others can count on. Scott makes him try. And because Derek constantly fails, Scott makes him feel miserable. 

His life is nothing but endless torture, and it’s easier when things are simple, when he has an enemy who is impaling him with a pipe or ripping him to shreds or electrocuting him. Physical pain makes things clear in his mind, and he can see through the fog. He knows what’s important to him then. 

When he is, when life is standing still, all he waits for is another strike to where it hurts the most. 

Derek doesn’t even know how to behave with people anymore. 

He’s a puppet of ideas about being human. He performs life because he doesn’t know what normal is. The only time he knows he’s doing something right is when he’s saving people or when he’s a wolf. 

Playing the human part is the hardest. 

He wants to be normal, but mostly, he just scares people. 

The only person who makes him feel even remotely normal is Stiles because Stiles doesn’t take bullshit. He tried intimidating Stiles, and all it did was make him babble even more. Derek has noticed that when he’s around Stiles, he doesn’t have to try so hard to be human. Stiles pulls his human side out effortlessly. He feels more connected to here and now when Stiles is filling the space with constant sound. 

Stiles is a little bit like an anchor to Derek’s human side, and that, if anything, is disturbing. 

Derek has had very little time to think about any of this because someone is always trying to kill either him or someone he cares about. But right now, he has time because there’s nowhere to go, and Stiles is occupying the same tiny space with him. 

They are locked in a werewolf-safe storage room with nothing to keep them company but each other and a few shelves full of nothing. 

The sad part is that they managed to lock themselves in while following a trail of someone who claimed to know why the Alpha Pack was at Derek’s backyard. He will never forget the look on Stiles’ face when Stiles realized the lock had clicked shut behind them. 

Stiles does not like small locked spaces, Derek knows this, especially since Stiles’ heartbeat has not returned to normal after they called Scott for help. 

There’s a lot of anxiety and darkness in Stiles. 

Maybe that’s why Derek feels like he doesn’t have to pretend with Stiles. He can just be his creepy self, and Stiles won’t care. Stiles will be scared of him, and he’ll sacrifice Derek for anyone he loves, but Stiles doesn’t need Derek not to fail, and Derek has never failed with Stiles.

They are sitting on the floor in silence, which is a little disturbing where Stiles is concerned. Stiles and silence don’t mix well. 

“Just...” Stiles glances at Derek sideways. “My heart is beating fast because I haven’t taken my meds. They are in the Jeep.”

“Okay.”

“It has nothing to do with you or this,” Stiles waves his hand around, “place. So stop spying on me.”

Derek stretches his legs in front of him, smirking. “I’m not spying.”

“You’re _listening_. I can tell.” 

Stiles is weird and human. He smells like human weakness, and something darker too, maybe silent, sleeping power that Stiles knows nothing about yet. Or maybe that smell is just Stiles, the Stiles he is underneath the layers of clothing, sarcasm and anxious fear. 

Derek isn’t sure if he likes the smell. 

“I’m a werewolf. I can’t stop myself from hearing things.”

Stiles’ heart skips beats, then starts a steady drumming in his chest. It’s so, so loud. “Then pretend like you can’t hear it,” Stiles finally says, indignant. 

They fall in silence after that, except Stiles fills the silence with tapping his fingers against the floor, and shifting around endlessly. The way Stiles fidgets is fascinating. It’s nervous energy, but it’s also Stiles’ way of staying focused. 

“So...” Stiles says, and Derek can’t help the almost-smile. “What do you think about the guy? Is he for real? Does he know something?”

“Who knows. We have to check him out, though.” Derek glances at Stiles, then continues to stare at the floor. The guy insisted on meeting Stiles of all people. Why Stiles is unclear to all of them, but that’s what he wanted. Derek and Stiles, alone. Now they are here, being totally useless. 

“Yeah, but why me? I’m a sack of bones, a fragile human. There’s nothing special about me. And where is he anyway...”

Derek can smell the sweat on Stiles’ skin, the nervousness seeping through him. It’s weird how he can barely concentrate on anything but Stiles right now when there are no other distractions. He needs distractions because he’s starting to feel restless too. 

He gets up, startling Stiles. There is no room for pacing around, but he tries because the wolf inside him is protesting, yearning for freedom. There’s something about Stiles that is bothering him. 

Stiles gets up too and suddenly, there’s not enough space for both of them, and for some reason that makes Derek’s wolf snarl. 

Instead of getting scared Stiles pokes at Derek’s chest and says, “What’s wrong with you?”

That’s the absolute wrong thing to do because Derek finds himself crushing Stiles against the door with his hand around Stiles’ throat. That’s not how humans behave. That’s not even how wolves behave. “Shut up,” he says through his teeth that are more wolf than human. He can smell the fear that comes in waves from Stiles, but there’s something else too, something primal that makes his wolf want to sniff the air. 

God, it’s frustrating to be a supernatural creature. He snarls again, his beta form full on. 

Stiles lifts his hands up, trying to seem unthreatening. “Hey, it’s just me. I’m not... I don’t know what you’re reacting to, but I’m not trying to make you react. You’re just... Oh god, what are you doing?”

He’s sniffing Stiles, and that is not normal. He can’t stop himself. His nose is against Stiles’ cheek, and the wolf is taking over. It wants to figure Stiles out. For some reason, it’s adamant about that. 

“You’re not smelling me, are you? Why? Do I smell bad? I bet I smell bad. Oh god... Don’t bite me, okay?”

A low, rumbling sound vibrates through him. He’s not going to bite Stiles. That’s a ridiculous idea. But so is this. He uses the hand around Stiles’ throat to tilt his head to the side and then he leans down, breathing in, his mouth opening and his teeth capturing Stiles neck. He doesn’t break skin, but it doesn’t matter because Stiles is equally scared. Derek can taste the sweat he smelled earlier. It’s all there. 

“Don’t turn me,” Stiles whispers, and that makes the wolf back away, makes it lift its head, and look at Stiles. “Please,” Stiles adds, shaking. 

“I’m not going to.” It takes effort to form words. “It’s not...” He moves closer again, touching his cheek to Stiles’, breathing, breathing. 

Stiles lets out a squeak, then grabs Derek’s shirt. “Whatever it is, you’re weirding me out,” Stiles says, his voice high. 

“You don’t smell bad.” That’s the problem. There’s something about Stiles, something about his scent that is messing with Derek’s head. He’s smelled it before, too, but it’s never been this distracting. He’s never had the time to be distracted by it. 

Stiles smells like sunlight and open fields. He smells like sweaty nights and heat. 

“Derek?” Stiles sounds confused. 

“In a minute,” he mumbles against Stiles skin. This is embarrassing. He buries his nose in Stiles’ hair. Who does that? Who fucking does that?

And then it’s crystal clear. 

Stiles tries to hide from him, tries to pull away even though there’s nowhere to go. Derek has him crowded against the door. 

“Um...” Stiles mutters. 

It’s a spike of arousal, and the wolf wants to have it all, breathe it all in, steal it from Stiles. Derek tries to think, tries to remember who they are and what this is, but Stiles is not making it easy. 

Stiles is so still, so very still, holding his breath too. “Oh my god... embarrassing,” Stiles whispers, and Derek can hear the blush in his voice. He can _hear_ it.

“Be still,” Derek says softly, then puts his hands over Stiles’ and frees his shirt from Stiles’ hold. They are holding hands for a second before Derek lets go. Then he takes a step back. 

This opened so many doors, so many possibilities. All of them are scary and weird as hell.

Stiles is visibly shaking, trying to control his body, but it’s betraying him. 

“You really don’t smell bad,” Derek says, sounding wistful. He hates himself a little for that. 

“I’m... not okay with this,” Stiles says quietly. “I’m not...” He waves his hands haphazardly. “I thought I wasn’t. I didn’t know. Oh my god...”

Derek isn’t okay about this either. His wolf wants to claim, though, wants to take and have. That hasn’t happened in a long time. “It’s okay,” he says after a long silence. 

Stiles stares at him. “Don’t you okay me. It’s not okay. You can smell me. That’s _embarrassing_. And hear my heartbeat now? You did that. You with your fucking nose... I don’t want any werewolf business down my neck.”

Stiles is babbling and making very little sense. That makes Derek feel a little better. He leans against the opposite wall, crossing his arms and legs. “I promise to keep my teeth out of your neck.”

“And tongue too,” Stiles says, flustered. Then he adds, “I’m a teenage boy. This means nothing.” 

Derek just smiles. 

“I mean it. Don’t get any ideas. Just because you can make me smell funny doesn’t mean you can stick your hands in my pants.” Stiles looks shocked. “I just said that out loud, didn’t I?”

Derek nods, then pushes himself off the wall. 

Stiles looks like a rabbit caught in a snare, and when Derek leans close, he goes stiff, his breathing shallow. Derek whispers in Stiles’ ear, “Scott’s here. We’re safe.”

He likes the idea that Stiles is this to him now. It means he doesn’t have to find ways to try to be more human to someone. Stiles will fight with him all the way through. Stiles will make things difficult, but it’s a challenge he’s willing to take. 

Derek laughs when Stiles all but runs out of the storage room when Scott opens the door. 

Scott looks confused about all the different smells, but he doesn’t ask about them because despite everything, he’s a smart guy. 

Stiles will come around. He’s too curious to do anything but.


End file.
